


Not hers anymore

by Ziba



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, Morrigan POV, No specified Origin, Song Inspired, The Dark Ritual, Writing experiment/exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 23:56:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10450401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziba/pseuds/Ziba
Summary: In their chambers, she waits





	

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up with Morrigan&Warden feelings so I wrote this in an hour, even if I did have the idea years ago  
> Song is "How to save a life", The Fray

Fidgeting with her hands, her fingerless gloves seemed more confining than ever.

The Witch of the Wilds sat on a too big bed, waiting. Uncharacteristic nervousness -  _ anxiety _ \- was taking over her mind and heart.

She had prepared the whole journey, her whole  _ life _ for this moment, but now she felt unsure. Unsure of the plan, who had been prepared from a Mother planning to take over the body of her own child. Unsure of herself and her abilities of persuasion, because she knew her Warden, a person that had been a goody two shoes since the moment they introduced themselves. A foolish person, the kind of person way too ready to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others. The kind of person she sneered upon.

And yet. That same spirit of sacrifice, that kindness, wasn’t the reason she was free? Wasn’t the reason she felt a little less alone in the world? Wasn’t the reason she got attached?

She got attached. She got attached and started caring, and caring meant that if her words didn’t went through, if she failed to convince them, she wouldn’t just lose a memory of what once were, she wouldn’t just lose a chance to gain power and knowledge. She’d lose the first person she cared for aside from herself.

She’d lose her one and only friend in the world.

The prospect made her chest ache, a piercing stab right through her heart.

She looked over at the door, still closed, but her eyes went over. The Warden and the foolish prince were probably finally discovering the truth about a Grey Warden duty, and no doubt were going to fight over who would have had the honor - the duty - of striking that final blow.

Smart people escaped death, but when had those two been smart.

Her Warden was a person of great honor, of great sense of duty, no way they’d let their friend, their future King, die when they could do something about it, so the small hope in her chest that it would be the mumbling idiot to die instead was vain.

She could convince them. She was sure of it, she had to be sure of it.

The open swung open, and her Warden entered, eyes dragging low on the floor, shoulders hunched with the weight of an entire world. They raised their head, and despite the tiredness in their eyes, their mouth twitched up at her sight, as if just looking at a person could soothe every pain.

She felt a spike of anxiety, but also of relief at their sight. 

She agreed, one person could truly make the pain better.

_ Foolish _ .

She started calmly. She explained herself, didn’t waver when they took offence on being let in the darkness about a Warden’s ultimate sacrifice. She answered each question about the baby, about her fate. She felt herself smile sadly when her Warden got upset at the prospect of not seeing her anymore.

The Witch of the Wilds felt her insecurities crumble as her Warden kept asking questions. It meant they were interested, they were considering, and from what she had learned in their year together, when her Warden considered, they usually agreed.

They took a long moment to consider, a long moment where they looked at the fire, eyes lost, mouth thin in a severe line. She tried to act as if her heart wasn’t beating furiously against her chest, playing with the stray ends of her gown, eyes furiously going from her fingers to their face.

And then they shook their head.

Morrigan shot to her feet, furious.

They were refusing a chance to live, and Morrigan raised her voice, and her Warden started to shout as well, months of frustration and tiredness accumulated finally finding an outlet. 

They both screamed, they both argued. Morrigan gave an ultimatum, and her Warden - no, not hers anymore - turned their face away, looking at the fire. The last words she heard them say were little more than a whisper, the fight having left them completely. They just said they couldn’t do that.

They couldn’t trust her.

Morrigan bit down her bottom lip, and she bid her goodbyes, full of venom and unshed tears.

The Witch of the Wilds left the the room, two feet and arms turning into paws, speeding away from a room already filled with death and regret.

The dog felt raw pain and fear in its chest, heard a name being called, one it should have answered to, but that only made its legs pick pace.

Later at night, a heartbreaking howl could be heard in the forest.

-

She felt goosebumps on her skin, as a wave of tainted magic reached her.

It was weak and had barely any power behind it, but it had reached her from miles over, where probably the great beast had just been slayed.

She turned over her shoulder, just barely. She was days of march away from the capital, was surrounded by a thick forest, and yet it was as if the voiceless scream of a dying hero had reached her even there.

The Witch of the Wilds raised her cloak over her head, and she fled, as the novelty of her usual loneliness washed over her.

**Author's Note:**

> Not exactly what I planned, but here we go  
> Thank you for reading, criticism is appreciated!  
> Love y'all  
> Ziba


End file.
